Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[Zazz]

Lohrithe deflected the wild roots diligently, protecting the Sumennan elfling - at least, she looked elvish to him. Who knew what the elves really looked like in the west? They were rumoured to be beautiful beyond imagination, and the healer was, certainly, beautiful, what with her sunkissed hair and those deep, warm eyes. The drow protected her until, suddenly, the tree was set aflame in a brilliant blue. He stood, sword raised, both mesmerized and terrified. His orc friend was trapped by a root, but Lohrithe could not move. He was held captive by the magnificent, terrible light. Both fear and awe gripped him tight.

Before he knew it, the ordeal was over. The tree settled into its former state, still alight with blue fire. He stared at it, even as he was manhandled this way and that by the Summerlander elf. He just could not tear his gaze away.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick eyed Eir warily as she approached Lohr. His grip tightened on the shaft of his axe, but when she began the healing spell he nearly dropped it in surprise.
Then, she turned her jewel-bright eyes onto him and suddenly he couldn't move. As she walked forward he tried to move back.
"It's not the reason you came." Desrick answered her, checking behind him too briefly to catch the rut of earth where a root had emerged. He fell flat on his rump and sat awkwardly in the dirt while she leaned forward. Desrick shut his eyes quickly, and winced when he felt the cool surge of magic slowly healing the cut on his chest and palm.
He blinked at her dumbly as she patted his cheek. Caer came up behind him, equally as close, and examined his face with scrutiny.
"She touched me before too." Desrick admitted, "cast an armour spell."
Realizing he was still on the ground Desrick got up in a hurry, brushing mud from his boar-hide trousers and vest. Next to the Summenan he was painfully aware of how dirty he was.
"You're a healer." The statement seemed overly obvious now, but the fact was that 'Summenan' and 'healer' still didn't fit together in his mind.

He approached her as she healed the man who had set the blood oak ablaze. Looking back to the tree the orc wrinkled his wide nose. The tree would likely take a lot of damage before the flames died in the wet air. It might not survive. That at least was in-line with what he expected.

"Wait." He said once she had finished with Gwyn. "My other friend." He pointed to Caerwyn, having noticed his friend's pain when he hauled him from the tangle of roots.
You're vulnerable with that arm like that. His gaze seemed to say to Caerwyn, hoping the Dovahro could forgive him for exposing the injury.

"You're not what we expected for Sumennans." Desrick said in a low, pondering voice. "Tell us who you are, and why you're really here."
Desrick crossed his arms over his chest, standing directly in the middle of the trail into Cyndara it was clear he wasn't going to let them through unless they gave an answer that satisfied him.

idalie Zazz Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II The Suspicious Eye AlbaGuBrath Brendanfp

 

[Flutterby]

Silence laid over the forest like a blanket, heavy as the mist that swirled around her. She couldn't see further than 10 feet in front of her own face, making it difficult to concentrate on tracking. The tiny form moved among the trees with a definite agility, even though it's path was uncertain. She had to pause every so often to reorient herself on the trail, but so far she wasn't doing too bad. A skittish horse made for deep hoof-prints in the soft dirt, so following the guide and his trailing party had been much easier since entering the borderlands. She wished it had been more difficult, to have something to concentrate other than the feeling of the persistent damp driving a chill into her bones.
A twisting, vine-like branch caught on her horn, and yanked her head to a stop. She swore softly, and struggled with freeing herself. As she did, a vaguely familiar white horse and pale rider bolted past her. Swearing louder now, she yanked free, but the guide was already gone from sight, high-tailing it back to the Half-Sun Hills.
Ora got free, now a little confused by what the escaping guide meant. Were the Sumennans giving up? Should she turn back? The answer was no, because the ground rumbled, and a scream sounded from ahead that was unmistakably from a summerlander.
The rumbling stopped as she neared, and the voices died down to almost conversational level. Ora slowed, and dropped her center of gravity to creep forward as close as she dared. Her footsteps were muffled enough that she knew the Sumennans ahead wouldn't hear them. Peaking through a gap in a bush, she took inventory of the group ahead of her: a hulking green-colored man, a dark-haired woman in black, three Sumennans in armor, a pale man with patches of snake-skin, a being that looked like an elf but was definitely not Sumennan, a fretful-looking woman who was laying hands on not-elf, and.. and a being with spiral-shaped horns and a tail. These were Cyndarans.

Her own tail wrapped around her ankle, nervously, as she tried to ignore the similarity between her and that particular Cyndaran. Having similar features to a savage beast that is, by default, an age-old nemesis of your people, well.. that isn't a great feeling.
Ora looked from the flaming tree, to the orc confronting the group, to the healer flitting about worriedly over the Cyndarans. This had not been exactly how she thought their entrance into Cyndara to go. Stealthy penetration of the enemy's defenses, yes. A small but epic border skirmish, maybe. But healing the enemy, after having a fight with them? It didn't make a lick of sense. Now, not only was the enemy present, but the people who were supposed to be her allies were being friendly to them. Which would land her where, exactly? An ally to both, or to neither?
I should have known this wouldn't be simple, she scolded herself, deciding it was best to just seek safety until she knew what was happening. And apparently safety, at that moment, was hiding in the underbrush.

 

[LadyOfStars]

Aurum remained at a distance as the two groups interacted with one another. The Cyndaran beasts had managed to fool their healer into assisting them. In a silence that was similar to the quiet forests of the shadowlands, the High-Elf observed everyone present. They had come to complete a mission, but there was no guideline to follow for interacting with creatures of the darkness. “We’ve come in search of information. We wish to learn about the lands you all call home.” The sound of his armor rang out as the metal plates clang together with ever step that, Aurum took towards the orc. The green-skinned creature seemed the most focused of all the strangers.

“As you can see, we know very little of your lands and we appreciate your assistance. We’re here for diplomatic purposes. To learn.” Aurum came to a stop with a few. Feet of space still between him and the orc. His eyes examined the other’s form while he put on a relaxed facade. “My name is, Aurum.” His hands were clasped behind his back, eyes fixed upon the orc while he stood with perfect posture. “I did not catch your name.”
SilverFlight

 

[idalie]

Eirianwen Llewellyn​

She had laughed when the orc fell backwards trying to avoid her initial touch but had little time to linger before moving on. Taking care to brush back the silver hair of the human male and have him stabilised; she was beginning to tire slightly yet smiled at the faint discussion and approach. "That I am. One of the few and far in-between of us Summerland Demons." Eir replied in amusement, visible from how her lips now curled in a pixie-like irrepressible grin. As Desrick motioned to the Cyndarian who had so-named her a demon, Llewellyn nodded and breathed in. "Give me a moment." Her movements as fluid as water, disrupted by the injured leg as the halfling now stood and partly beckoned to the Dovahro. "Quickly now, I should get back to our fallen party member." Eirian reached out, grasping his hand and then gently the wounded arm. Palms although now illuminated with magic, strangely cool to the touch as to soothe. "Here, you should know healers don't have offensive magics. I would be a very bad demon otherwise." Llewellyn shook her head. "I am Eirianwen, it would be better to call me by my name, hm?" Checking for further injury and examining the limb a secondary time she released yet another patient. "It will be tender, I don't recommend anymore fighting for today, or it could easily come undone. That goes for you all. Magic binds the flesh and often my efforts can be in vain if you all decide to tear at each other's throats." She warned.

Besides her tending to injuries, the other elf stood forward. Aurum. He spoke a half-truth but a truth nevertheless, which made Eir more inclined to follow suit. She'd never been a fan of lying. "Tell me, what are your names, gentlemen? It would be silly to refer to you as anything else." The healer put a hand to her chest, "And to think we thought there were monsters hiding here ... well except for the tree." She grimaced slightly at the burning oak. "Oh, I do feel a little bad. But it did try and eat us." Settling back down beside Gwyn; retrieving a bundle of lavender, she gently wafted it under his nose to try and bring the soldier back to consciousness, adjusting to sit on her side with legs curled -- tending now to her gashed calf as well as keeping an eye on the silver-haired male.

The lacerations came together neatly, having enough by the end of it to clean up her face from the cuts and for future emergency should it arise. Although, if there was to be another skirmish she'd be more reliant upon her skills as a physician rather than that of a caster. Yet she could hear something as if the tidal pull in her blood took on the song of the seas and rivers. Raging and babbling all at once, rocking back and forth as if a mother to an infant. She put a hand to her brow momentarily in dizziness, albeit recovered quickly; putting it down to the expenditure of mana in such a short period.

Chione SilverFlight LadyOfStars Brendanfp The Suspicious Eye Zazz AlbaGuBrath Sir Galahad II Flutterby

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick couldn't help but smile as the healer chatted away, feeling regretful Caer had used the term 'demon'. If she had any foulness to her temper it would be hard to believe.
After Eir moved to her next patient Desrick turned his full attention onto the armoured elf warrior ( LadyOfStars ). He held his gaze confidently, green eyes apprasing, taking in each word, its tone, and its implication. His arms were still crossed, which made his hulking, muscular frame even more apparent. There was a moment of silence between them as Desrick formed his decision: he sheathed his axe.
"Aurum, Eirianwen." He tried their names carefully. They didn't seem like the ones who could have attacked the orc village: for one thing they would have to know a safe route through the blood oak grove, and for another, even these summerlanders with their fire and their healer would not have come away from battling orc warriors so unscathed. No, they were not the ones he was looking for, but that did not mean they had no knowledge of what happened.
"Desrick." He tapped his heart as he said it.

While Eirianwen tended the fire mage Desrick stepped back to his Cyndaran companions, beckoning them into a group away from their unusual guests.
"I don't think they're lying. Not outright, but they might still know something. I want to take them back to Delan and the elders there, but...if they put up a fight I'll need help. I'll need your help."
He knew it was no small favour, but Desrick was sure that if the Sumennans decided to kill him once he had lead them through the worst of the forest, there would be little he could do alone to stop them.
Chione AlbaGuBrath Zazz The Suspicious Eye

With that said the orc turned back to the fire mage and the healer ( Brendanfp idalie ), stepping up to them carefully; some part of him was still expecting them to set him on fire.
"Not many are...brave enough to tackle a blood oak head on." He decided to go with 'brave' and not 'stupid' to be diplomatic, but it was clear from his tone and the begrudging smile that the summerlander had impressed him. The move had been downright orcish.

He frowned as he caught the healer sway. Before he could think he put out a hand to steady her, taking it away just as quickly once he realized what he'd done.
"Anymore healing and we'll have to carry you into Cyndara." His tone was gruff but warm.

"We will guide you." Desrick confirmed louder so the others could hear. "You're not going to make it to the first settlement without help, and if you truly want to learn, you might learn something on the way."
A little more softly he added in Eir's direction: "Can you walk?"

idalie Zazz Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II The Suspicious Eye AlbaGuBrath Brendanfp Flutterby

 

[Flutterby]

Ora listened from the safety of her bush, taking note of names, as apparently they were introducing themselves to the monsters now. One of the armored men, the tall elf whose armor looked new, answered the orc in a smooth tone that made her frown. He said it was a diplomatic mission, which was so far from the real truth, that it may as well have been an outright lie. They were here to learn, but only to the extent of ensuring that Cyndara would fall in the war to come, or at least that is what her source inside the Dwerstand court had told her. She had to hold back a scoffing snort.
The female elf was overly-chatty with the creatures, although no one seemed to have a problem with it. Ora couldn't decide if it was because she was ditsy, or because she was nervous. She did offer one useful piece of information: the attack on the summerlanders was perpetrated by the tree that was now aflame, and the Cyndarans had helped safe them from if. Ora's eyes grew wide, as she tried to wrap her mind around several things. First, the plants in Cyndara could be living, moving, eating beings. Second, the Cyndarans had assisted the Sumennans. Third, she really did look like a beast, which explained her life in the summerlands. Oh, and she still needed a way to join the group. That's it, I am officially in over my head, she thought. Might as well go all in, some evil little voice within her whispered. The evil little voice was correct, though.

Ora backed up slowly, as quietly as she could, a few feet from the edge of the small clearing. Then, she straightened up and set her shoulders, before moving forward and walking right into the clearing, with an appropriate amount of noise to announce her arrival. When it was obvious that she could see the group, and the group could clearly see her, she stopped and stared at them. She made her surprise as plain as day, and waited the proper amount of time before speaking.
And then, in the blunt way only a dwarf could, she said, "Well.. Dwerstand leaves you to your own devices for a few minutes, and you're already making alliances." Ora glanced between the individuals in the clearing, hoping that none would realize she had been eavesdropping for several minutes. "Hope I'm not too late for you to include the dwarf people in this." There was a pause, and she looked closer at them, and then added, "Why do you lot look so battered?"

 

[Zazz]

The dark elf was only half listening to the happenings around him, still enraptured by the magical blue fire as it ate the now calm tree. Glancing down at his waterskin, he knew he could not put it out. He sentout a silent prayer to the goddess for it and the rest of the forest, and finally turned away. Desrick was beckoning him and the other Cyndarans over to discuss the outsiders.

At the favour his friend asked of them, Lohrithe nodded with grace, his eerie green eyes flitting over the Sumennans briefly. He was not entirely comfortable with the elf man - his people spoke of the high elves as a terribly self-centred people who looked down upon all other races, even other elves. "Of course, my friend," he said softly. "I will be at your side."

The orc returned to the Sumennans and offered them - informed them of his - guidance. Just then, another creature of Sumenna appeared, claiming to be of dwarvish decent. This ruffled Lohrithe's white brows, pushing them together. She looked like... well, a faerie, he supposed. A Cyndaran faerie. Lohrithe stepped forward curiously, and asked their newest addition, "You are a dwarf?" It was with genuine interest that he continued to approach the horned woman. "I... You seem quite tall... Perhaps the stories are wrong." He frowned, and reached out to run a finger along one of her horns. "They don't say anything of beautiful horns."

Flutterby

 

[Brendanfp]

Gwyn Godfrey
​

"Can you walk?" A gruff voice says in the distance.

​

The Brynson soldier slowly began to stir as the pungent scent of lavender tugged him into the conscious world. Gwyn was expecting glorious sunshine as his eyelids fluttered open but instead was met with the spotted skies of Cyndara. The silver-haired man began to sit up as memories slowly began to come back to him. Behind him, a faint crackling and familiar warmth filled the foreign air. Gwyn turned to the sound and gazed at the tree surrounded by a blue blaze, his saber still lodged in its trunk. He remembered everything now but despite the injuries, he had sustained and the fall from such a height his body felt perfectly fine. He looked down at half-elf girl beside him who was now tending to her own wounds. Before Gwyn departed from Brynson he had been briefed on the other Sumennians who would be joining him on the journey. This girl had to be Eirianwen Llewellyn, the halfling healer. "Thank you, Lady Llewellyn. I am indebted to you," Gwyn remarked as he examined his body still tingling with her magical energy. He extends his hand out toward Eirianwen so that he could help her up off the ground.

 

[The Suspicious Eye]

Lenore Ysseos

Lenore spent her time meditating during the overhead of the fight and finally she found some extra strength. Lifting herself out of the earth she maneuvered through the roots keeping herself low to the earth. The earth surrounded her arms and fingers floating around her. She quickly shot small rocks into the roots and force parts of there roots down back to the earth. Bobbing and weaving through the swatting roots she looked over to Des as he firmed his stance and knew that he had something up his sleeve. Her body growing light as she hopped back up into the tree line Lenore let go of the roots she was holding down. Watching the two men stand against the root before Des slammed the blade of his weapon into the tree and ignited it. She felt for the creature as shrivel and whimpered back into rest as the gnarled tree. This happened from bloodshed. Whoever killed those orcs needs to be removed from this land before they upturn our home.

Letting out a empty exhale she realized the battle was won, Lenore leapt from branch to branch before landing down beside the orc and the other Cyndarans. She assured him that she was fine, only a few scratches here and there, but nothing serious. Her woulds were nothing and would certainly heal in a few days or so. Looking over to the Summerlanders she gazed over there faces, none of them were who woke her. Relieved the Sumennans were safe but sadden that the one she wanted to see wasn't there with them. That sadness turned into fear as she grew worried that the attack was their doing. Deep in her thoughts she jolted a bit at Caerwyn's outburst. Looking at the orc, beast men and Sumennan girl. She chuckled a bit as she saw the interaction and quickly covered her mouth as to not draw much attention to herself. The last thing she wanted to do is insult him, but it was quite endearing to see how much he cares for his friend.

Her laughter faded as she listened to the high elf spoke, she didn't like what she heard. Hearing their names did not help ease her uncertainty as she remembered the tales that her lover told her of using small parties to scout for weaknesses and attack points before taking over. Back then her home was off limits, the land of Cyndara a cursed land to Sumennans one to avoid. Times truly have changed, but have the people? Once she would have happily welcomed these investigators with open arms beliving in their word and having hope for the best. However after all she'd lost and all that was taken from her, her innocence and welcoming disposition has died. It's only in helping others and returning back into this world that her hope and kindness would return. Looking from the high elf to a strange rustling bush and then turned her attention back to her thoughts. Her stance straightening just a bit as if to ready herself for another attack.

As the Sumennans attended to each other Lenore watched as Des turned to them and spoke in a hushed tone. Lenore knew her voice was not at place in his decision but she wished to let it be heard. "I do not think it's wise to bring them there. We don't know who they truly are, or if they're here to hurt our home. We still do not know who killed the orcs. However, I asked to assist you and assist I will." Facing the group again she did her best to give a kind smile, but her mind wandered on her own.

Hearing a voice from the bushes she looked over to see a dwarf woman and raised her brow. it always surprised her to see someone smaller than herself. She was also relived to know that her instincts weren't dulled and her new found old age seemed to make her senile. Watching as the other children met and talked amongst themselves for travel Lenore turned her attention to herself and her injuries. The stone that floated around her settled upon her body and around her wounds. The black stone molded into one and formed a type of armor. Having no one to converse with Lenore simply looked back in the direction that the orc bodies laid and listened to the earth around her. Having trained for over fifty years in magic she could move mountains by her will. Yet what Lenore found most powerful was to listen to the earth and it's vibrations. Spreading their magic into the ground they become one and feel through h the expanse of the depths of the earth to the tips of the tress. She may be too weak to lift the earth at the moment, but her knowledge has not left her. Breathing steadily she fell into a sort of meditation.
idalie Zazz Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II SilverFlight AlbaGuBrath Brendanfp Flutterby

 

[Flutterby]

Ora looked at the elf approaching her, with skin that matched the unearthly light that Cyndara had. Her face was flat, blank of expression, when he questioned her. She seemed expect his next statement, and merely blinked. Even the ugly, horrendous monsters think you're not a real dwarf. Ora hated that little voice inside her, but couldn't refute its statement.
As he drew close enough to touch her, her eyes slid away to focus straight ahead, the picture of neutrality. He carried himself with the self-confidence of a society-accepted being, and she fell into the same habits that she had developed for the summerlanders. She wanted to draw away from his touch, wanted to take several large steps away from him, but years of experience had taught her not to move. Drawing away, reacting to the insults, it only goaded them on, and sometimes angered them.
In the next moment, she experienced the most profound confusion of her life. This Cyndaran, this dark elvish man, one who should be evil, used the word 'beautiful.' To describe her horns. The horrendous pieces of her that had gotten her sent away from her first home. The epitome of ugliness. Her tail curled tightly around her ankle, the tip flicking against her boot. The only explanation could be deceit, or ignorance.

Slowly, Ora turned her eyes to meet his. Her face held no outright malice, but her eyes were alight with cold fire. His finger was still on her horn as she spoke. Loud enough for everyone to hear, she said, "I am tall, because I am a halfling."
That explained her height at least, for the entire group. Her voice dropped, so that only he could hear. "And an ugly one at that. Kindly remove you hand, sir." Her tone was that of gently scolding a child. He was either trying to manipulate her, or just didn't understand what it was to be a Sumennan. The two options seemed equally plausible to her, and her gut told her she should keep an eye on this elf, and any other Cyndaran that attempted to compliment her in such a way.
Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe was visibly surprised by the negative way in which she described herself. He did not find her ugly. Quite the opposite, in fact, with her dark, sun-touched skin and fur-tipped tail. He took back his hand and self-consciously tucked his white hair behind a long ear. Perhaps the Cyndarans were not beautiful in the Sumennans' eyes. His strange eyes were sad as he lowered his head and backed away respectfully. "Forgive me. Dwarves are uncommon in these lands." Lohrithe had never seen one.

Confused and uncertain of how to properly greet the newcomers, Lohrithe stood back by Desrick, his hands clasped in front of his waist. His chest lay bare to the elements, scars littering his torso from his training as a boy. From where he stood, he observed the Sumennans. None of them were shirtless... He felt underdressed. Was he wrong to find them beautiful? The dwarfs spiral horns and the healer's warm eyes? Aurum was a figure worth carving. Even the man with the blue fire, and the grumpy man with his limp. They all were beautiful in their own way. Did they think the same of him? Or were they just monsters to the Sumennans?

 

[idalie]

Eirianwen Llewellyn​

"You're too kind, Desrick. But I'm sure I'll be fine, I don't want to be a burden." Eir watched as Gwyn got to his feet with uttered thanks, causing the healer to let out another soaring laugh. "I'm no lady, Sir Godfrey. It's a flattering notion," Taking his hand the halfling pulled her skirts up to be kept from getting trodden on and thus stood beside him; resting slightly against her staff. The orc was kinder than he let on and undoubtedly the rest of them too. A vibrant bunch, from the fae to the other natives -- she couldn't help but think them to be beautiful. Unlike how the Summerlands depicted with beasts and hags. Exotic perhaps, but not ugly to the extent they'd been warned of. Llewellyn, did however, grasp onto Des' arm and give him a blinding smile. "Do you know any healers? You say we may learn, right? If we see any healers can I talk to them? Do you know healing? Can you teach me? Is there healers where we're going?" Although she still felt a little weak-limbed, there was nothing to stop her enthusiasm and certainly no sort of physical boundaries which could save the poor man. "I won't touch any more trees." Her brows arched, yet then frowned. "You seem trustworthy, we're not being taken prisoner or anything are we?" Those golden, autumnal irises bore into his own, waiting for a response.

Before the healer could assault her new acquaintance with further inquisition, a new voice joined. She puffed out her cheeks slightly and whipped to point her finger inches from Desrick's nose. "I still have more things to ask. I'll be back." Approaching the half-dwarf and Lohrithe -- the drow of which began to back off -- Eir put a hand to her face and then drew Ora into a quick embrace. "I thought I'd be all alone! Sumennan girls stick together, we can share a part of the camp! Although about the battering, the tree attacked us -- I heard Desrick call it a blood oak, he's that one over there," She pointed to the orc and then smiled. "Then Gwyn set it on fire, so that was that." Llewellyn added with a shrug. "I've never been to Dwyerstead though, so you'll have to tell me all about it! I've only heard stories about the mines and how the walls are littered with diamonds! Of course, I'm not a fan of diamonds, I think amber is nicer, but my mother always told me if you don't have good taste, how will you find a good husband--"

At the rate she was going, it was clear this was going to be a very, very long journey.

Flutterby SilverFlight Brendanfp Zazz The Suspicious Eye Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II AlbaGuBrath

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick was completely taken aback when Eir grabbed his arm, he couldn't stop himself from jumping slightly at her touch. From there she bombarded him with questions at such a rapid pace that he could only stammer uselessly in their wake. She was interested in healers? Well that made sense, and it told him that at least Sumennan people believed Cyndara may hold secrets to the art. Likely, they did.
He seemed to come back to the moment when she asked about being taken prisoner.
"Well," he began slowly, "that depends. Are you really here for academics?" The counter was subtle and he smiled back at her with a half-knowing look.
idalie
There wasn't time for more to be said however as the dwarf made her presence known in no uncertain way.
The orc froze again when Eir's finger stopped an inch from his nose. He caught himself raising his hands in unconscious surrender. Desrick looked on as Lohr spoke to the dwarf, wincing at the brusque rebuff. As Eir went to hug Ora Desrick put a comforting hand on Lohr's shoulder when he stopped by him, offering him a shrug and an expression that said 'I don't understand them in the slightest'.
"A swan believes it is ugly if raised by ducks." Desrick offered quietly before turning back to the trail. He passed Lenore ( The Suspicious Eye ) on his way and spoke to her quietly:
"You're right not to trust them, but I say we should keep them close, and keep eye on them. We might learn more about why they are really here, and if they are connected at all with the attack on my people." He left her with that, giving the fairy a grateful smile for her promised help.
"We should go before the mists get thicker!" The orc announced loudly. "There is a long way to go. Stay close and whatever you do...do not stray from the path."
Zazz idalie Flutterby

'The path' as Desrick had called it wasn't much of one; at times it looked like he was striking out into the middle of the wood, but each Cyndaran knew the trails, and knew how to find home. Desrick glanced occasionally at the cryptic markings on certain trees and chose their way seemingly from divine ability. Darkness enfolded them like a funeral shroud, made worse by the thickening mist: It swallowed sound and ensnared them in a stifling silence. The crunch of dead leaves was muffled as Desrick cut through with slow, rhythmic steps. The only light aside from lanterns possessed by Sumennan fore-thinkers was a small flameless orb Desrick had produced from the pouch at his belt. It gave off an eerie blue-green glow.
"It lights the way without destroying your night vision." He had told them, to satisfy any curiosity.

He could not help but lead them back past the ransacked village, it was the safest way.
As they passed the looming shapes of orc huts, the destruction came well into view under the orb's gentle light: broken beams and torn baskets, broken pottery and produce strewn across the ground. The covered bodies as well, two big, and one small. Desrick paused for just a moment to read the reactions of the Sumennans as they came upon the scene. He had little doubt that they had no hand in this, yet, a small part of him wondered.

The mists boiled thickly up ahead and Desrick frowned deeply. They were too late to avoid the thickest of it. They would have to cross through it.
"This is the last threshold before the mists clear." Desrick turned to them somberly, waiting until he had the attention of all.
"When we pass through, you might hear or see things: echoes of your pasts. The mists play with your memories, they take your thoughts and twist them into visions. We can all see them, but it is important, that no matter what these apparitions say or do, that you do not leave the trail. If you go to them, you will lose yourself to the mists, and you won't be found again."
As if to prove his point the mist before them writhed and squirmed, forming the shapes of two brawny orcs. Their forms shivered and broke as the mist coiled but they were there, clearly beckoning to Desrick. One of them made a gesture that could only be seen as one of great respect. They motioned for him to come away from the sandy path on which the party. Desrick turned away from them, making sure the group, Cyndaran and Sumennan, was ready before they attempted the most dangerous leg of their journey...

idalie Zazz Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II The Suspicious Eye AlbaGuBrath Brendanfp Flutterby

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe found comfort in the orc's touch, even if he was a little rough around the edges. The dark elf took one last, sad look at the half-dwarf before following Desrick down the path. They passed the ransacked orc village on their way. Lohrithe took the opportunity to place a small stone on the chest of each of the three bodies in respect. The orcs were his people, too.

They came to a stop at the rolling, swirling mist. He listened to Desrick's warning, and glanced at the Sumennan healer warily. He had a feeling she would be the first to run off. Gently, he offered her his hand and gave her a tentative smile. After the half-dwarf, he had his reservations.

 

[LadyOfStars]

These creatures were either too trusting or foolishly confident. Aurum smirked inwardly as he watched and listened to the conversations around him. The orc who seemed to be a leader of these people, decided to willingly take them to a settlement after a brief half-truth. Aurum knew not to complain about good fortune though. Instead, he glanced over his party once more just before the groups started to enter the dense, unwelcoming forest.

From the outside it was obvious what the differences were between the summerlands and the shadowlands, but on the inside, those differences were crystal clear. Slowly, Aurum’s gaze washed over the fog covered trees and path. Darkness was everywhere and nothing seemed...natural. Suspicious sounds and unfamiliar lights made the forest seem alive. Cautiously, he watched his stepped and trailed behind the others as they followed the orc. The elf kept his hand upon the hilt of his sword because the kindness they’ve ever been shown, could all be a facade. When the group came to a stop, Aurum’s attention went to the village. It was in disarray and would have been unrecognizable had it not been for the pottery, family, and other domestic items thrown about. “At war with one another?” The soft words were spoken mainly to himself, but anyone’s beside him would have hear different them as well. With an uneffected expression upon his face, Aurum turn away from the scene and looked ahead.

He remained aware of history footing while he listened to, Desrick’s speech. The explanation actually worried the high-elf. There were things in his past that he’d rather not relive and definitely didn’t want others to see. He took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind. “I already dislike these lands.”

 

[Flutterby]

"Think nothing of it," Ora said softly, as the dark-elf withdrew from her. She had not expected her words to affect him so much; a pebble of guilt settled in her gut. She looked him up and down as he retreated, as confused by him as he was by her. Her eyes followed him as he returned to the orc, but her field of vision was cut off momentarily as the half-elf bounded over and enveloped her in a hug. Ora felt like she was drowning in soft, flowing robes. Her arms raised halfway, just short of pushing away. She didn't want to offend a summerlander, like she had just offended the Cyndaran elf. Looking just past her volumious locks, she just caught the orc's statement to the elf.
A swan believes it is ugly if raised by ducks. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the orc, as Eir released her, and began chatting away. Ora looked at the woman, her face blank, and blinked twice. Is this really happening? Never had she been approached by a Sumennan like her, let only spoken to and embraced. She swallowed softly, trying to keep up with the flow of words, but failing miserably.

When the orc announced they were leaving, Ora walked next to the elf-woman, Eir she had been called. She listened patiently to the chatter, but watched the surroundings carefully. As they emerged into the village, she swept her gaze over the debris, and then found herself looking at when was unmistakably covered remains. Her eyes widened in a mixture of shock and sadness; it was clear, from Lohrithe stopping to pay his respects, that they knew the deceased. She did her best to hide how it troubled her.
She caught the sound of Aurum's voice, and spared him a brief glance. Not the sympathetic type, then.

He stopped them moments later, and made an announcement of the perils ahead. Mist that would lure them from the path, which they must not step off of. She almost wasn't surprised that such a thing existed at the edge of Cyndara. As if on cue, two orcs materialized and beckoned to Desrick, but he turned away to look to them.
Lohrithe approached Eir on her other side, and offered to walk her through the mist. Ora bit the inside of her lip, avoiding looking directly at the dark-elf. He had perceived her actions as rude, which made her feel embarrassed. But it would seem that it would be the least of her worries; her past was about to haunt not only her, but everyone around her. This day can't get any more strange. This time, she agreed with Aurum's sentiment.
Zazz idalie SilverFlight

 

[Brendanfp]

Gwyn Godfrey
​

"I'm no lady, Sir Godfrey. It's a flattering notion," Eirianwen retorted as she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up...
idalie

Gwyn grinned as the excitable halfling moved past him and towards the hulking orc who seemed to be the leading figure for the small Cyndarian faction. He was glad that the healer was accompanying the Sumennian party through theses treacherous lands, where seemingly everything was out to kill them. The Brynson soldier glanced around at the carnage that their battle had left behind. There were large sections of dark coarse dirt upheaved in clumps where the monster oak's roots had emerged. Slowly Gwyn made his way towards the burning oak with the intention of recollecting his silver saber from the azure flames. The soldier proceeded with caution as he didn't yet know if the devilish creature was truly dead or just lying dormant, but he stopped suddenly when a sound to his right caught his attention. A figure had emerged from the brush into the clearing, but Gwyn couldn't make out the character as they were obscured by the thickening myst.

"Well... Dwerstand leaves you to your own devices for a few minutes, and you're already making alliances. Hope I'm not too late for you to include the dwarf people in this," the shrouded figure called,"Why do you lot look so battered?"
Flutterby

Gwyn recollected the mention of a half-dwarf during his briefing, however, as she stepped closer into his view he was shocked by her appearance. He almost mistook her for another of the Cyndarians but did well to hide his shock. It wasn't often that Gwyn interacted with the lesser races of the Summerlands, but when he did he always took special care not to stare at their strange and unusual appearance. He struggled to find the right words to greet the newcomer and sighed with relief when Eirianwen found them for him. Gwyn made a mental note to find the time to properly introduce himself to the half-dwarf girl and continued forward towards the burning oak. Now standing directly in front of the blue blaze that enveloped the oak, Gwyn reached out and firmly gripped the hilt of his saber. He felt no pain as the blue flames swallowed his hand. With a hard jerk and the twist of his wrist, the silver sword came unlodged from the flesh of the oak. Gwyn brought the blade close to his face as he examined the saber for damage, then once satisfied he returned the weapon to its scabbard just as the long-toothed brute called out to the group.

"We should go before the mists get thicker! There is a long way to go. Stay close and whatever you do...do not stray from the path," he commanded with an air of authority that didn't sit well with the soldier. Gwyn moved to rejoin the group as they began to prepare for their departure further into the Mystlands.
SilverFlight

The journey started out slow as the band of friends, acquaintances, and strangers followed closely behind the noble green giant. Gwyn's attention was split between trailing behind the traveling group and jotting down notes in a small booklet he kept on his person. It was in this journal that Gwyn intended to record his epic journey into the dark and desolate lands of Cyndara. He had just finished chronicling his heroic bout with the ghoulish living tree creature and had begun writing descriptions for the others who would be joining him on this legendary adventure. Gwyn began writing of the exotic elf with skin that rivaled the complexion of the grayest soot, but his hair was of the purest white. The creature was truly a spectacle to behold but was obviously a perversion of the Sumennian High-elves. Gwyn's examination of the dark-skinned elf was cut short by the Cyndarian orc's words of caution. Gwyn struggled to come to terms with the fact that this myst would show the party his memories and desires against his will but quickly realized that he'd have to get over his discomfort in order to fulfill his mission. Without further hesitation, Gwyn took in a deep breath and began to wade into the ocean of stirring myst.

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

As he huddled under the roots of a tree, Ciaran hugged his knees to his chest to stop his trembling and buried his face. The day had scarcely started and he’d already made a fool of himself… Twice! The heavy mists and moisture dripping from the leaves made it obvious that no fire was going to spread far in these conditions, much less become a raging beast that devoured all in its path. He was far away from home, far away from the wind-swept wastelands that could burn for days before finally dying down. The spectacle was probably practically unknown here, a blessing he wished he could claim for himself. After taking a series of deep breaths, he finally felt strong enough to stand.

But what was he to do now? The reasonable thing to do would be to leave immediately, to save face and keep away from the strange Sumnerans in the process, but they had done something to entrap him… They’d caught his curiosity. Who were they? Why were they here? What could they do? What did they eat? Where were their homes? What songs did they sing? How… What… Why…
The questions swirled around his head like a cloud of gnats, small and insignificant but collectively irresistible. After so long of travelling alone, there was no way that he could pass up the opportunity to meet not only other Cyndarans, but strangers from across the mysts.
“Very well, then.” he declared to himself as he headed back down the path “It will be the death of me, but curiosity must be satisfied.”

As he drew close to the battle scene, though, he began to have second thoughts. He was a proud spirit and could not endure to be mocked, which would certainly be the consequence of his less-than-heroic display. If he was to return with any measure of dignity, he would have to have an alibi. Clambering up a tree, he settled onto one of the boughs overhanging the group and watched while he tried to come up with a plan. More strangers had arrived since he’d left, including one with a pair of spiraled horns and a tail. He nearly fell out of the tree with excitement; there was someone like him! Impatient to make their acquaintance, he quickly devised a cover story and scurried through the limbs until he could come down on the path a short distance away.

Arriving on foot with a confident air, he approached the group and gave the orc, who had apparently set himself up as leader, a mock salute and deep bow, smirking with amusement.
“I have scouted out the nearby area and found that none of the other oaks have awakened. We should be safe to travel; those of us that know how, of course.”
With his final remark, he glanced sideways at the Sumnerans trying to gauge their wilderness experience, when he remembered why it was he was so eager to figure out who these people were. A toothy grin flashed across his face and he looked straight at the halfling.
“Hey!” he cried out in delight, leaping over to where the stranger was standing “You look like me! Are we related? I’m from the Roson, to the east. You must be a western fairy!”
He paused and glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then lifted a clawed hand to his face and whispered, “But you’ve lost all your fur… You know an eldinleaf poultice is good for that. I can help you find some, but it tastes funny!”

Around that time, Desrick began his announcement, interrupting the fairy’s riveting account of accidentally eating the wrong strange-tasting herb once.
“... I thought it was for tea… But it made me sick for a week!”
The announcement froze him into silence, though he was careful not to show it this time. He wasn’t going to go running from his imagination again today. He was curious about what the others were afraid of - he thought it might be getting their hair tangled up or being chased by a mouse - but he didn’t like the idea of being chased by his own fears, and especially not of being lost in them forever. There had to be a way to prevent that… Then he remembered the stories.

He raised a hand and waved it madly to get the others’ attention - a difficult task with so many tall creatures around him.
“There are stories about this, very old tales. They tell of visions to carry away travellers, but they can be survived if moored to an anchor. In this case…” He paused to dig out a length of rope and held it aloft triumphantly. “Us!”
Slinging the rope over his shoulder, he returned to where Desrick was standing and tied the rope securely around his wrist. If anybody could keep the others on the trail, it would be the hulking orc. If he decided to wander off, however… Ciaran didn’t want to think about it. He measured out a length and tied his own wrist a little ways away, then pretended to follow a spectre off the path only to be stopped short by the rope.
“See? It works!”
With that, he tossed the rope towards the others for them to take their place.
SilverFlight Flutterby

 

[idalie]

Eirianwen Llewellyn​

As they passed through the now eerily silent settlement, the healer fell quiet for once. Her features drawn as Lohr approached the bodies of the fallen few to pay his respects; clearly something was afoot, but she didn't have the heart to ask. Eirianwen took the dark elf's offered hand as the mists became denser, the air punctuated by Desricks warning. And still, she had more questions to ask of the orc that had all but dampened their vying for attention with the change of tone. Llewellyn didn't like this place, however, she gave a smile in return to Lohrithe's, bowing her head forward slightly with an uttered 'thank you'. The halfling glanced back at their dwarven companion. "You can hold onto me if you need," It had a maternal sentiment, although she was sure half the people about were older than her by some extent. Eir, stuck close to Lohr now, shying away from the swirling fog even as they entered, Desrick displaying their illusionary capabilities only moments before -- and everyone could see.

Grateful for Ciaran's own enthusiasm and the thrown rope, she detached from the elf a moment, winding it about her waist; which suddenly drew her billowing robes tight to her. It was like watching a long-haired cat be shaved, for she was certainly the sort of woman who you could snap in half. Neither especially curvy nor holding any real strength on her frame. As soon as it was done, she offered the rope to both Lohr and Ora. But not before latching back on to the white-haired male.

Nausea gripped her stomach. What would the fog show of her? What would it do? Her heart leapt into her throat, thunderous now as the pitter-pattering pulse got louder. Into the fray they continued, encased on all sides save for the path and silhouettes of their comrades.

They were looking at her. In the white, stirring cloud. Some lay propped on the ground, unconscious; heads bound with cotton bandage and limbless. The Summerlanders, so famed for their beauty, now disfigured by weapons and warfare. Young faces and gleaming eyes, blood which seeped, bones jagged -- snagging on wheezing lungs. One kept mouthing over and over, a repetitive scream lost to the visage of 'My wife, my wife, where is my wife?'. Tendons were exposed, intestines hanging, dripping bile and acid as waxen expressions of horror and blue-eyed boys cried. Eir clamped a hand over her lips, shaking uncontrollably. An armoured knight with flowers growing from his chest plates sent her into a choked, dry sob. It was obscene, brutal, and all of those she had lost. Her fathers face. A child's whooping cough. The last sigh of breath. She'd mumbled a series of desperate apologies, hidden behind the cage of her fingers.

A prayer, even to Cyndabrynde slipped through, hardly noticeable to those who dismissed her ramblings. Or rather, a begging they should be laid to rest even if it be amongst her own thoughts. They had suffered, and she had been unable to aid them in their darkest hours. A weight to carry, a responsibility to acknowledge that the one who was blessed with being able to cure -- was unable to bring them forth from the clutches of their own mortality.

She had tried, wasn't it enough for them? Why, still deep down, did her grief feed the thoughts when she had thought to have buried them long past.

They had brought her flowers once, papercuts; doe-eyed. Unknowing they were a viable, die-able age. Receiving what they wanted most a kiss on the forehead; mothers kiss; sisters kiss; lovers kiss. Wake-up-soon kiss. Death kiss. Tell me it'll be ok, sort of kisses that glanced off of feverish brows.

Hand on cheek -- wipe away the filth with your thumbs. Vomit stained, blood dirtied, ammonia-scented. Hush with lips drawn. Tut with tongue on teeth. Apron red, fingers stained Iodine yellow. No more tears. Poppyseed sleep. Little boy, weep. You're a man with scars to count. A healer can do no more.

SilverFlight Chione Zazz Flutterby The Suspicious Eye Sir Galahad II AlbaGuBrath LadyOfStars Brendanfp

 

[Flutterby]

Between the chattering healer who was excited to have another female along, and the chattering fairy who was excited about her horns, Ora felt her ears might fall off. Who knew other people, outside of her horrendously grumpy teacher, could talk so much. Why weren't they running out of breath? She didn't have time to correct the fairy about what she was, because he was talking too fast, and then they were at the village and the others had fallen silent, and he was offering a solution to the walking-off-the-path issue. Ora blinked several times as he moved away, stunned into silence by the sheer volume of words she had just been exposed to by Eir and Ciaran.
AlbaGuBrath

She waited until the rope came to her place, on the other side of Eir, and looked at it a moment. Was she willing to literally tether herself to these people? Would she be able to resist better by herself, or would the rope help? With a sigh, and a check to make sure her knife was within easy reach, she tied a loop around her wrist, and passed it on. She cocked the smallest of smiles at the image of Eir's waist now cinched, her robes poofing above and below the rope like a bunched pouch. No wonder she was a healer; the wind could knock her over if the wind caught in her robes. She caught eyes with Desrick, who seemed to be checking if they were ready, and swallowed softly. Before she truly felt ready, they were entering the wall of mist.

It would see that the first experience belonged to Eir. There were bodies, some still living but mostly not, strewn about along the ground along their side. The carnage was impressive, in its amount and detail. Her brain seemed to conjure the iron-laced smell of blood, and the smell of approaching death. Ora tore her gaze away to look up at Eir, who was shaking and crying, hand pressed to her lips, muttering what sounded like apologies and prayers. The dwarf frowned, feeling as though she was watching the healer unravel with her very eyes. It would seem life in the summerlands wasn't always easy for the beautiful. Ora reached up and rested a hand on the middle of the healer's back, and helped guide her along the path. "The only way is forward," She said gently, even as her stomach was beginning to tie itself into knots. The mist would have something for her, too, in time.
idalie

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe looked on somberly as Eirianwen's hallucination took hold around them. He had tethered himself in, too, with the rope. Clever idea, it was. The half-dead bodies were strewn about, their guts outside of their bodies and tears streaking their grimy faces. Young, grimy, innocent faces. Lohrithe held the girl's hand with both of his, giving it a gentle squeeze for comfort. The dwarf, too, with her beautiful horns, tried to comfort the healer. It was horrifying. The dark-elf wondered why the Sumennans fought so much. What was the point? He tore his eyes away.

Up ahead, there was a fork in the road. Desrick, at the front, split off into a clone of himself, one taking one path, the other, well, the other. Lohrithe jerked everyone tethered to a halt. "...Desrick?" His heart dropped in panic as both orcs reacted in the same way. "...Oh, no."

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick gave the dark elf ( Zazz ) a grateful look as he came from the destroyed village to join them. Aurum's ( LadyOfStars ) voice reached him, passive and appraising and to the orc, cold as morning lake water.
"Not at war with each other." There was somehow a warning in his low growl, but he didn't press further. In answer to Aurum's expressed dislike he began to prepare for the crossing, knowing that the opinion might change once they were through.
He stopped rummaging in his pouch when a pair of hairy legs came into view ( AlbaGuBrath ). Desrick blinked once and brought his gaze up to a new face: a fairy.
The character wasted no time in slotting himself into the group and Desrick, more confused than anything simply acknowledged his 'report' with a simple: "Eerr...Good."
He continued working as their new member made his rounds. Desrick wondered if the lad even knew he was talking to summerlanders, but decided to leave the reveal for later. In any case, he could give the chatty healer company.
When Ciaran produced the rope however Desrick shot him a grin. "Good idea." Desrick said, allowing the fairy to attach the rope to his wrist. "While your at it, why don't you tell our new friends your name." He suggested, thinking that he would very much like to know it himself.
Once they were fastened Desrick gave one final look over them. He caught Ora's ( Flutterby ) gaze and nodded with a confidence he did not feel. Eir's resentfully-constrained robes made him smile. They were ready.

The visions for the others began before they had gone ten paces. Desrick saw the bodies: sallow shades of death with every turn of the head. Who's visions were these? He looked back and saw Eir's ( idalie ) ashen face and haunted eyes. Of course. The people she couldn't heal. Desrick's heart twisted at the thought. Guilt like a mountain of cold stone, borne and growing with every life she didn't save. He watched the dwarven woman comfort her and, as the leader holding the rope, there was little he could but watch.
"Get them through this..." he muttered quietly to himself. "That's how you help."
He pressed on, one step after another, the orb's light biting into swirling banks of mist, forcing it back with each step. The orc figures he had seen were walking beside him now, beckoning still. He recognized the chief of his tribe and forced himself to look away before he could see the false expression of pride and welcome. The Roz'kul chief would never look at him that way...never.
Repeating this as a mantra, bitter on his tongue he continued on.
Desrick didn't stop again until he felt the tug from the rope in Lohrithe's direction and turned to cast about for his friend. The mist was so thick now he could barely see two people behind him, and he did not see Lohr ( Zazz ).

"Lohrithe?" He called, waiting in the silence. Every second they spent not moving was another step closer to the dangers of the mist spirits. For now there had only been a few visions, but there would be more...so many more. They could not linger.
"Where are you?!"

idalie Zazz Chione LadyOfStars Sir Galahad II The Suspicious Eye AlbaGuBrath Brendanfp Flutterby deer

 

[deer]

H

er forest green eyes flickered to and fro, taking in the moment, attention drawn to her surroundings rather than the individuals she was accompanying. Mystland. The ride towards Cyndara was captivating – the sky’s transition from morning to sunset and eventually dark reminded her of a waning fire slowly fading as a candle’s ember slowly burnt out. The golden horizon of Half-Sun Hill etched in her mind as she absentmindedly followed behind her travel companions. Much like the half-dwarf, she appeared later than the rest, only just arriving shortly after hearing the quite chattery half-elven woman ramble about what happened with the others before her and the half-dwarf’s arrival. A flicker of interest crossed Rossarinya’s features at hearing the summarised tale but after the summary was over, Rossarinya diverted her attention elsewhere. Nevertheless, the she-Elf stood in the background, not finding it fit to introduce herself until a later time as her eyes roamed the misty lands, observing and mentally taking a picture of the terrains. It wasn’t until she heard the orc’s call through the crowd about the mist getting thicker that Rossarinya found herself coming out of her small haze. For her, it wasn’t unusual to block out the rest of the world when she found her intrigue elsewhere than where she was currently stationed. Get out of that head of yours, Rossarinya. It isn’t polite for a young Lady such as yourself to blatantly disregard and ignore those among you. It’s rude. Without much thought, Rossarinya followed behind, hearing small sounds of crunching leaves and the hardened footsteps of her companions as they travelled onward.

If her teacher could see her now, she could only imagine he would do backflips - a sight she would love to see and marvel at - from the sudden trip she made into the forbidden lands. Truth be told, she wasn’t suppose to be on this . . . quest, but here she was, taking her time getting situated within the land. She managed to persuade her brother Andaer to allow her to take his place. Of course, there were promises she had made to her brother before she left and couldn’t leave until she gave her word, but, the one promise that she knew she had to make was to stay alive - not for her mother’s sake but for her brothers – the ones who truly cared about her well-being. As much as she would have wanted to bring Cerys her half-wolf, half-dog familar with her, she couldn’t and that in itself worried her trusted companion. She too, had made a promise to him to come back and even now, she gravely missed him as he was a reminder of why she wanted to come in the first place. But, it seems there were consequences of her choice and decisions to make – there always was a price to pay. Caldwen her mother, on the other hand, had words to say about such a quest. A small smile made its way towards her lips as she covered her mouth, discreetly holding back a laugh at the thought of her mother’s apprehension and need to fuel her distaste for the mission by walking around all huffy and puffy. Her eyes drifted back to the trees, a question in itself as she took note of the leaveless branches and the bruteness of the wooden structure. The stories she heard about Cyndaran were too dark and gloomy to be true, in her opinion, but now that her eyes could see rather than rely on an imagination that was deemed incorrect, Rossarinya could believe why such tales were told but she couldn’t imagine the image of the lands such as the one she was in now. The fog made the air dense almost as if it was heavy to breathe in but Rossarinya made haste with what she could. What deterred Rossarinya the most was the idea that despite the surface of what she has seen. . . there is more to the lands and perhaps the orc was right to say a swan would think it’s ugly if it was raised ducks.

Although Rossarinya may not pay attention to others personally if she had no business with them, words don’t fall flat on her ears as they go in one ear but not out the other. She believes it to be a skill, an idea that she could multitask or she had great hearing since was a better listener than most believed. However, it seemed another being decided to tarry along - a fae. As the mist surrounded them, Rossarinya found herself finally looking at those around her, taking in their silhouette, their frame, trying to etch it to memory but the fog proved to be a hassle. Her gaze moved to each and every individual, finding their differences and their uniqueness as best as she could. It didn't fall flat on Rossarinya's ears that the half-dawrf didn't believe herself to be beautiful. . . but Rossarinya knew or rather could see that beauty lies everywhere, one just had to look hard enough to see it but not many would do that. How foolish but normal in Sumenna. After working with fine gems and jewelry for so long, it was only a matter of time that Rossarinya could find a diamond in the rough despite the cracks that other believed to be broken. Broken. However, what - or rather who drew her attention the most was the High Elf. But, the moment she took note of the Lord, Rossarinya felt a cold air pass through her and the taste of iron upon her lips. It took her a moment but once she realised she had been in walking by a ransacked village, she blinked back her surprise at seeing the chaotic disruption of the area. She heard stories of such happenings but never. . . .had she seen it so up close - so personally. Rossarinya drew her attention away from the scene as quickly as her eyes settled upon it, feeling her eyes growing wet. Something inside of her ached but she didn't understand it. Her brother warned her of the destruction that she was shielded from but, it seems one can't be shielded for too long.

Satisfied and relieved for the distraction, Rossarinya gazed ahead, watching the others. Hearing the orc's revelation that the mist would form illusion of their past made Rossarinya apprehensive. There were memories she kept locked in her head, never wanting to relieve them again, but here she was about to be exposed. She wanted to retort, to scream and refuse such a road, but something inside of her kept her from being resilient. The rope was a good idea but, Rossarinya never liked being. . . restrained, but despite her discomfort as she shuffled her feet together, trying to avoid the rope, she sighed before reluctantly placing it around her waist. Biting her lip, her eyes showed. . . what was it fear ? . . . regardless of what it was, she quickly tied herself to the others, giving the rope to whoever was next, wanting to get rid of the crossed feeling she had with the object. Instead of going back to her head, Rossarinya decided to just observe her companions as she had let out a slight smile seeing the half-elven women - her attire just as airy and flow as her own. However, at seeing her, Rossarinya's eyes glanced towards the dark elf ( Zazz ) curiously as she noticed the scars on his chest. Different yet. . . not so much. A part of her wanted to meet him, to chat with him, to get to know him, but. . . would that even be possible? Did he see himself as beautiful? Is his mind. . . different? She remembered the incident between both the half-dwarf and the dark elf's but didn't really look at the situation. Her eyes roamed once more and found the High Elf ( LadyOfStars ). Lord Aurum Soleil. . . if she remembered correctly. Rossarinya should remember, after all, her mother engraved it into her head the names of those who were important. At hearing the Lord's cold tone, Rossarinya moved her attention away from him, hoping he hadn't taken note of her. Her eyes shut closed for a moment as she felt her heart beat erratically against her chest. He's like them. She didn't find solace in the idea that one of the High Elves from the House would be traveling with her, but she should have known better to know the Houses would send their own, however, the Head of the House? Odd.

But, before Rossarinya could delve into her mind any longer, her vision was crossed with another but this time. . . it wasn't her own. Her eyes widened causing the feelings she suppressed before to rise up again as she tried to avoid seeing the memories of another. Her light footsteps moved on their own will, following those ahead of her as she walked - but, she felt as she was being tugged whenever she almost stopped in her tracks. It was a good thing to be tied to the rest if not, she surely would be lost - proving what she already knew yet hadn't fully accepted. The obscene visual of what was displayed before her was one of despair, cries, and horror that would only haunt her dreams as she looked for the individual responsible. Her eyes drifted towards the half-elven woman ( idalie ), hearing her choked sobs. Rossarinya watched as a stranger before her unravel in the darkest way possible and for a split moment, she felt anger at the mist that caused this mess - exposing the vulnerability of a person and making them re-live the moments they wished to unsee and forgive. Shaking her head, Rossarinya tried to avoid seeing more as she closed her eyes, hearing the apologetic half-elven and the screams of a man, but most of all, she tried to block the image of the disgruntled and disfigured bodies and faces. As Rossarinya heard the whispers and the attempts to comfort the half-elven woman from the half-dwarf as the dark elf and the orc's expression sombered. Her forest green eyes found the half-elven's silhouette seeing the half-dwarf's gentle hold. A feeling of remorse passed through her frame as a fire lit inside of her soul. Walking closer towards the she-Elf and the half-dwarf, Rossarinya stood near them as her eyes furrowed hearing the pitch in the dark elf's voice and the orc's call for him.

"You are strong. Don't falter now. Believe in yourself." ( idalie , Flutterby )

The words spilled out of her mouth like a river flowing down a stream. Something triggered inside of Rossarinya and for the first time, without a thought, she spoke to another - drawing attention to herself but, rather than continue the her small spill, she became silent. Rossarinya wondered what was going on as she tried to see through the heavy fogs that surrounded them.

tags: Chione , AlbaGuBrath , Brendanfp , The Suspicious Eye , Sir Galahad II , SilverFlight

 

[Zazz]

The dark elf shuffled in closer so that Desrick, whichever one was real, could see him. "I am here, friend... But, where are you?" In explanation, the confused drow gestured to both Desricks, both seemingly tied to the rope. How was he supposed to know which to trust? Which to follow? He put a hand in his white hair in confusion.

The one on the left furrowed its brow at the other and beckoned to Lohrithe. "This way," he grumbled. Lohrithe hesitated, and looked to the orc on the right. He could see Desrick's chief on the right. That had to mean the one on the right was real, right? But the one on the left said sternly, "Stay on the path."